Chapter 25: The Pharmacy, The Academy

“Brother Yuan is Second Master?”

“Hiss—is he truly the legendary, righteous Zhang Er-ye?”

Several new Constables stared with wide eyes at Zhang Yuan as he walked out of the Martial Guard Office.

In Great Qin, there was the Imperial Court, and there was the Jianghu.

The Court spoke of national law; the Jianghu spoke of righteousness.

Five years ago, during the Battle of Fengtian County, besides the thousand casualties of the Crimson Scale Army, there were also two thousand conscripted bailiffs, martial guards, and prisoners.

Because the Crimson Scale Army had died defending their positions in violation of orders, that battle resulted in neither merit nor pensions.

Of the nearly hundred soldiers conscripted from Luzhou Prefecture, only a handful returned alive.

The righteous Zhang Er-he, Master Tao of Yulin Academy, and the divine physician Hu Qingniu of Fengtian—they arrived with a scroll of blood-written petitions to fulfill the honors owed to their fallen comrades.

Zhang Er-he not only traveled far and wide to help the families of the fallen through their hardships, but also raised funds to build an academy for Master Tao, who had lost his martial cultivation, so that he could teach the children of the fallen soldiers and secure a future for them.

Not only that, Zhang Er-he also brought the divine physician of Fengtian, Hu Qingniu, to Luzhou City, helping him open an apothecary and taking the children of the fallen as disciples, while providing free medical consultations to the families of the deceased.

Whether they were martial artists of the Jianghu or ordinary commoners, who would not respect such a man?

Although the Imperial Court had officially ruled that the Crimson Scale Army had violated orders during the Battle of Fengtian, Great Qin valued martial strength, and not an inch of territory could be lost.

Neither the commoners nor the people of the Jianghu felt there was anything wrong with defending Fengtian County to the death.

The fact that Zhang Er-he and the others had survived that bloody battle already commanded respect, but his actions to fulfill the honors of his fallen brothers had spread throughout the Jianghu, earning him universal admiration.

In particular, Duan Hong, who was originally the leader of the Qingshan Bandits, had entrusted Zhang Er-he to look after Qingshan Village.

With only a single blade, Zhang Er-he had stepped onto Qingshan Village, dragged all the bandits down the mountain, and led them toward a path of reformation.

Zhang Er-he even spent half a year scouring all the large and small mountain strongholds around Qingshan, persuading all the bandits to descend the mountains.

Today, the Eighteen Villages of Qingshan all engage in legitimate business; they have built twenty-three iron chain slides to clear trade routes, and the daily tolls they collect are enough to make a living.

Zhang Er-he is also revered as the Lord of the Eighteen Villages, and throughout the Jianghu, he is addressed with the respect of "Second Master."

In Luzhou Prefecture, who did not know the righteous Second Master Zhang?

And today, they had actually met the living Second Master?

Watching Zhang Yuan collect his wages and walk out of the courtyard, several new Constables were filled with excitement, their bodies trembling uncontrollably.

Zhang Yuan carried a baton in one hand and a pouch containing his wages in the other.

Walking up to Feng Cheng, he tucked the baton against his chest and fished out an ingot of silver worth about two taels from the pouch.

"I am entrusting Chen Wu's affairs to Young Master Feng," Zhang Yuan said softly, pressing the silver into the stunned Feng Cheng's hand. "Once this fellow settles down and starts a family, we will have fulfilled one more wish."

"I... I... Brother Yuan—" Feng Cheng's face flushed red as he gripped the silver tightly. "I will never fail your trust!"

Zhang Yuan patted his shoulder, lifted the quite heavy money bag, gripped his baton, and strode away.

Even after Zhang Yuan disappeared around the street corner, Feng Cheng remained there, holding the silver ingot in both hands, his expression ecstatic.

"Young Master Feng, what rank is Brother Yuan? How can he receive so much pay..." one new Constable asked doubtfully, looking at the silver ingot in Feng Cheng's hand.

The pouch Zhang Yuan carried looked quite heavy, containing at least ten or twenty taels of silver.

A Ninth-rank Constable received one and a half taels of silver a month; even an Eighth-rank only received two.

"Brother Yuan is an Eighth-rank Constable," Feng Cheng said, his face full of joy as he gripped the silver.

"You've been at the office for so long and you didn't know Brother Yuan is Second Master? Haven't you heard anyone talking about it?"

"The office issued a gag order long ago, forbidding anyone from discussing Brother Yuan's affairs. After all, he is an official, yet he carries a nickname from the Jianghu."

Feng Cheng chuckled. "If I weren't on good terms with the brothers in the office, I wouldn't know either."

"Brother Yuan is rarely at the office and rarely participates in missions. He has also declined several promotions to Seventh-rank Constable Leader."

"To raise funds, he has taken almost every execution mission in Luzhou Prefecture and the various counties."

"Every month, Brother Yuan earns seven or eight taels just from the execution fees alone."

"Execution fees?" Several Constables looked at the silver in Feng Cheng's hand and shrank back. "I heard that money is bad luck—"

"Bah!" Feng Cheng tucked the silver into his robe and patted it, his face beaming. "That's execution money for others; for Brother Yuan, it is merit money. When money passes through the hands of Second Master, it becomes merit."

"This is much more real than the 'merit' those monks like Liang Yuanyu talk about."

"I can't wait; I must go back and report to the Clan Head. Whatever Brother Yuan has entrusted to us, my Feng family must see it through."

"You guys go to the Osmanthus Boat first. I need to go home for a moment."

***

After collecting his wages, Zhang Yuan arrived at the West City. However, instead of returning to Ding Family Alley, he turned into the adjacent Sanyuan Street.

Sanyuan Street was a fairly prosperous street in the West City, with a blue stone road over two zhang wide stretching for more than a li.

Walking forward no more than fifty zhang, he saw a shop with a sign reading "Medicine."

Above the main entrance hung a plaque: "Hu's Apothecary."

The shop was not large, but many people were lined up in front of it.

"Brother Yuan."

"Brother Yuan."

Several young shop assistants, seeing Zhang Yuan, called out to him with excitement.

"Master, Brother Yuan is here!" A quick-footed youth had already dashed into the medicine hall.

However, just as he entered, a few shouts and the sound of "slapping" could be heard. He then rushed out clutching his head, covering half his face, and grinned: "Brother Yuan, the Master is inviting you in..."

Zhang Yuan nodded and walked into the medicine hall.

The hall was crowded. Hu Qingniu reached out with his left hand, checking pulses while whispering prescriptions.

Beside him, two disciples held registers, recording with ink brushes.

Hu Qingniu's hair and beard were much whiter than they had been five years ago, but his expression was spirited.

It wasn't until he had seen four or five patients that he looked up and saw Zhang Yuan.

"You brat, you're a step too late. Old Man Zheng passed away yesterday."

"He was still mentioning you before he left, saying that if it weren't for you, he wouldn't have lived this long."

With a soft sigh, Zhang Yuan said quietly, "To care for the elderly and see them through their end... Tomorrow, Master Tao and I will go to the Zheng Family Manor for the funeral to help Brother Zheng Qiang finish his final task."

Hu Qingniu reached out to the patient in front of him, then turned to look at Zhang Yuan. "Help me burn some spirit money. I can't get away. The old man stayed with me for over half a year; we were quite the friends across generations."

Zhang Yuan nodded, grabbed two ingots of silver from his pouch, placed them on the table, and turned to leave.

Not only did Hu Qingniu's apothecary provide free medical care for the families of his fallen comrades, but he also supported many of their children as disciples. There were also several elderly parents of the fallen living in the back courtyard who might not survive the winter.

Zhang Yuan subsidized all these expenses.

It wasn't just here; Master Tao's academy was also funded by Zhang Yuan.

"Divine Physician Hu, who is he? Why did he just leave after dropping the silver without even getting medicine?" An old man, who had just had his pulse checked by Hu Qingniu, watched Zhang Yuan walk out, his eyes falling on the two large silver ingots. "I heard that those with incurable diseases will donate silver to buy their lives from you?"

Rumors in the streets suggested that Divine Physician Hu had the means to bring the dead back to life.

However, the Divine Physician rarely used such methods; he would only pull someone back from the gates of hell if they were truly on the brink of death.

It was said that Divine Physician Hu also knew a technique for blood exchange.

"Him?" Hu Qingniu pressed his fingers lightly against the old man's wrist and nodded. "His name is Zhang Er-he. That silver... is indeed money to buy a life..."

The old man trembled all over, his eyes widening.

"Zhang... Zhang... Second Master Zhang?"

He jerked his hand back and slapped himself several times. "I deserve to die, I deserve to die! How could I dare to speak of the Second Master's end?"

With blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, he suddenly remembered something. He threw himself to the ground, kowtowing repeatedly toward the silver on the table. Then he stood up and reached out to touch the two large ingots.

"Second Master's merit money; touch it once and a hundred diseases vanish, touch it twice and a hundred blessings surround you..."

...

By this time, Zhang Yuan was already carrying his baton, stepping into the academy at the corner of Sanyuan Street.

Yulin Academy.

"Brother Yuan!"

"Brother Yuan!"

Two seven or eight-year-old children called out joyfully at the entrance.

"Little Master Tao, Brother Yuan is here."

In the courtyard, a young man in his early twenties wearing a cyan scholar's robe stood up and bowed to Zhang Yuan. "Greetings, Brother Yuan. My elder brother is studying in the back courtyard; I will lead you to him."

As Zhang Yuan followed the young man toward the back courtyard, the children scurried ahead, shouting, "Master! Master! Brother Yuan is here!"

A few coughs echoed from within the courtyard.

Zhang Yuan entered the yard and saw the pale-faced Master Tao sitting at a stone table.

Though autumn had not yet arrived, Master Tao was already wearing a thick cloth padded jacket.

Seeing Zhang Yuan enter, Master Tao waved his hand, signaling the children and the young man to leave.

"How was this trip? Is Yu Ceng, the Lord of White Sorrow Mountain, truly a long-established Xiantian Realm expert? There were no complications in killing him, I hope?"

Master Tao looked Zhang Yuan up and forth, speaking in a low voice.